Dilemma
by Cuticlecare
Summary: Christian Wolff was facing an unusual dilemma right now. He had been in many dicey situations before. He had dodged bullets, left a trail of bodies in his wake and avoided organised crime from Tokyo to Tehran. But this? This was alien territory. Set post-movie. One shot.


**_For Five feet two_**

_An 'Accountant' fanfic set after the movie. I was inspired by a series of short fanfic about Christian, Braxton and Dana 'adopting' each other and becoming family. Bur really, I ship Christian and Dana so hard. As always, I tend to ship tiny fandoms (sigh) but I hope whoever loves the movie will like this._

* * *

**Dilemma**

Christian Wolff was facing an unusual dilemma right now.

He had been in many dicey situations before. He had dodged bullets, left a trail of bodies in his wake and avoided organised crime from Tokyo to Tehran. He had escaped from prison from the third floor with nothing but a dented thermos, became an international fugitive for the last ten years and worked for some of the most dangerous men on the planet. But this? This was alien territory.

Christian Wolff never had an attractive woman falling asleep beside him whilst they were watching tv.

Christian could feel himself tensing up. He was almost afraid to breathe just in case he woke her up. She was no threat, really. Dana Cummings was tiny, barely five feet two on a small frame. Her dark head resting against his shoulder was no weight at all, but it might as well be a live grenade ready to go off. They had sat down to watch a movie after dinner and he had been engrossed in it; so engrossed that he didn't notice that Dana had nodded off and had slowly slumped sideways until her head was anchored on his shoulder. The movie was still playing on tv but Christian could not focus on that right now.

So what should he do right now?

Well, if he was being Christian Wolff, he would shake her awake. Dana did choose the movie after all; it was only halfway through and she would miss the ending. It was only logical to wake her up.

If he was being a concerned friend (which he was), he should wake Dana up and tell her to go to bed. It must be uncomfortable sleeping with her head on his shoulder like this. She may get a crick in the neck and Christian was always invested in Dana Cummings' health and wellbeing.

But… if he was being the other Christian, the one who risked his life to save hers, the one who sent her the priceless Pollock and the one who couldn't quite to keep away from her as much as he tried, well…that Christian did not mind having her asleep, pressed up to him like this.

Not so much.

In fact, not at all.

Still, Christian felt that he should do something. He breathed out slowly, trying to keep his panic at bay. Dana will not wake up. She was a heavy sleeper. Christian's mouth quirked at the corner thinking what a heavy sleeper Dana was. The first time he met her, she was slumped over the boardroom table at Living Robotics fast asleep and no amount of door slamming or throat clearing woke her up. It took two strong shakes to her chair to finally rouse her. And he had sat across her as she slept on the sofa in the hotel suite. There was an enormous and very comfortable bed yet Dana had fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for him. He had drunk the sight of her in, committing to look to his memory. She had not stirred awake even after he wrote and left a note behind and then slowly closed the door, bidding her a silent goodbye.

Okay. So she was not going to wake up anytime soon. He could work his way out of this. This was not rocket science. It is not as if he was trying to find $30 million missing money from the Sinaloa cartel who weigh their cash in 18 tonne wheelers; or figuring out who was cooking the books and funding Al-Qaeda. This was just an… awkward situation. He would just need to take a step back and do an assessment. Like how did he ended up here in the first place?

It was supposed to be one of the dinners he and Braxton have with Dana. For all the mess that happened with Living Robotics, there was at least something positive that came out of it. A lot of positives really. He and Braxton had made up and were family again. Christian now acknowledged that cutting his brother off for all those years was stupid. Granted, he thought he was acting in Braxton's best interest and he wanted his little brother safe, but Christian now realised he was actually hurting Braxton more. They lost their mom and dad, they only had each other and his brother needed him then. He shouldn't have disappeared and stayed away for ten years. Also Christian realised he sorely underestimated how well Braxton can take care of himself. However, ten years of angst cannot evaporate overnight and they had to slowly work through their issues. They had their own business interests which of course, they kept separate but both brothers made it a point to stay in touch. Be it a cup of coffee, a couple of days just hanging out shooting things or having dinner at Dana's.

Now _that_ had been an unexpected development.

Christian Wolff was supposed to disappear from Dana's life. After all, she deserved 'wow' and Christian felt he was the furthest from wow that any girl can get. He was different. He was a freak. He could not offer what other guys could and it was best for him to leave. But of course, things were never clean-cut or as simple as that. A chain of events meant he was back. In some ways, perhaps he didn't really want to leave. And this time, because Braxton was there, Braxton was back in Dana's life as well. Thankfully not to kill her. Quite the opposite really. And somehow, they developed into this weird, dysfunctional trio who met once a month for dinner. He could be in Tel Aviv and Braxton in Madrid, but they will somehow make the time to have their dinner with Dana.

The evening had started like any other evening.

He had pressed the doorbell and waited for it to be answered. He could have just gone in without the whole rigmarole. Dana had given them keys to her apartment. Actually both Braxton and Christian did not really need keys to get in but the social norm is to knock and wait to be invited in so Christian always did that. Dana had answered the door as usual. She had her soft grey cotton t-shirt on with 'Disco Suck' on the front and a pair of fitted jeans. A cute apron with pineapple motifs was tied round her waist. Christian noticed she also had a smudge of what looked like tomato sauce on her cheek.

"Hey!" She smiled up at him. "Right on time."

"Seven p.m." Christian had noted gravely. That was the routine. They were to appear at Dana's door at seven, they sit down to dinner and after dinner, they will watch a movie. He was actually slightly early just now and had paced the pavement outside Dana's apartment until it was time. Dana was now stepping aside to let him in and she shut the door behind him.

"These are for you." Christian said, handing over the bunch of roses he was holding.

"Oh." She looked a little surprised but took the roses anyway. "Thank you."

The look on her face made him just a teeny bit nervous but Christian breathed a little easier when she beamed up at him.

"They are beautiful," Dana said. "Let me put them in water." She made her way towards the kitchen and briefly paused in her tracks to pick up a remote. "Make yourself comfortable." She smiled over her shoulders, pressing a button on the remote before leaving it back on the table.

A few seconds later, the quiet strains of a cello filled the room. Christian listened to the familiar notes.. Cello suite no.1 in G Major by Bach. Immediately he felt the tension leaving his body. Somehow Dana had found out how classical music relaxes him and she made sure it was on her playlist. He surveyed the apartment. It was the same as the last time he was here. The same squashy sofa with the plump cushions, the light shaded down to low, the temperature set just right, and of course, the familiar Pollock hanging on the wall. For someone who had been spending ten years of his life on the run from one spartan house to another, this was perfect. It was familiar. It was comforting. It felt like he came home. Christian reasoned that was why he always looked forward to having dinner here with Dana. Well, one of the reasons but he was not about to number all of them right at this moment.

He had just hung up his coat when Dana came through holding a vase with the roses in them. It was placed in the middle of the dining table.. Christian noted with approval how precise the table was set. Three sets of cutlery, razor sharp straight, side plates and wine glasses placed at the right angle. He wasn't quite sure about the placemats. The pattern of multi-coloured squares were not to his liking but at least Dana had made sure they were set straight three inches against the edge of the table.

"Dinner will be ready soon," he heard Dana saying.

"Braxton is not here yet."

It was more of a statement of fact rather than a response. Braxton was nowhere to be seen and Christian knew he was always on time.

"He said he'll be late, " Dana answered. "Work ran over and he said not to wait. He sent me a text."

Christian frowned at this new information. He knew too well what kind of work Braxton do. What happened? Is he going to be ok? Why didn't Braxton send him a message? Why did Braxton sent Dana a text? Braxton text Dana? Since when? Did he and Dana talk all the time?

"He also said - " Dana continued, scrolling through her phone to find the text. "Tell my brother, that great big lug, not to worry. I'll be fine."

She was trying to wipe the grin on her face but failing miserably. Christian pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded. Yes, that sounded like what Braxton would say.

"So.." Dana spoke up. "Do you want to help me with dinner?"

* * *

For someone who lived alone and probably just cooked for one on most nights, Dana sure had a lot of things in her kitchen. She was a whirlwind of activity at one end of the counter while he stood at the other end. He has a whisk in his right hand and a bowl in his left, pressed securely against his body. When he proved to be useless in cutting up tomatoes (they were far too squishy), Dana had suggested that he could make dessert instead. They were having Italian tonight and dessert was going to be tiramisu.

Ok. He can do tiramisu.

The recipe was on the iPad in front of him and he had all the ingredients neatly measured and arranged. He just need to follow the recipe to the letter and Christian was very good at being precise. The mixer was broken, however, and he was told to use his brute strength to whip some cream and mascarpone together. He made a mental note to replace Dana's broken mixer tomorrow.

"How are you getting on?"

Christian looked up from the bowl he was holding to find Dana standing next to him. He really had no reference point about how well he was doing. The recipe didn't include any stage by stage pictures. The recipe said to whisk the mascarpone cheese and cream to the consistency of whipped cream. He looked down at the bowl and gave the mixture a few more furious whips, just in case. He stopped and offered the bowl out to Dana.

"What do you think?" he asked instead.

He anxiously looked at her but instead of inspecting the bowl, Dana was actually gazing down at his arms. Christian looked down. Did he spill something on them? He had been careful to fold up the sleeves of his shirt. Christian checked and found his forearms were clean.

"Dana?" Christian prompted.

"Huh?" Dana snapped her gaze up. The two pink spots appeared on her cheeks.

"The mixture," Christian said seriously. "Do you think they are the consistency of whipped cream?"

"Oh. The cream," Dana stuttered, sounding slightly embarrassed.

Christian couldn't quite figure out why she would be. He decided not to dwell on that because Dana was now inspecting the bowl and he was very keen to know how he did.

"Yep, I think so. You did great," she announced a short while later. "It looks perfect. Let's start building the tiramisu up."

What followed was confusing. To Christian, at least. Dana fluctuated between trying to help him and getting in his way. Their hands kept bumping into each other when they tried to line the dish with the coffee-soaked ladies fingers. She kept saying sorry. He was puzzled what exactly for. Christian was sure he messed up spreading the cream on top of the sponge fingers. It was not as smooth and as level as he wanted. The finishing touch was the chocolate on top and Christian took great care to slowly grate the chocolate all over the top. He stood back to take a look at the finished product, noting it looked very similar to the photo on the iPad

"That looks delicious," Dana beamed up at him and Christian found himself smiling at her. "Why don't you put that in the fridge to set while I take the lasagne out of the oven?"

"Lasagne?"

Dana was already opening the oven door and the comforting smell of tomato sauce coupled with hot, melting cheese wafted out.

"Yep. Lasagne for dinner," Dana answered, taking out a ceramic dish and placing it on a trivet on the counter. It smelled delicious. It reminded Christian of the short six months his family was posted to Italy when he was ten and the subsequent jobs he took with the Camorra family in Naples when he started his business as the accountant. Christian was also reminded about something else.

"Braxton likes lasagne."

"He does," Dana chirped happily, taking off the oven gloves and hanging it on the rail on the oven door. "I love it too."

Of course. Of course, Dana knew what Braxton liked to eat. And of course, it would be the same thing that Dana liked too. Christian knew he had many faults. He had many problems but being blind was not one of them. Dana was very attractive. And Braxton? Braxton always has an eye for the ladies and he could be very charming. Christian knew full well how charming Braxton can be with women. He had seen it worked up close many, many times. The rakish smile, the warm eyes, the way Braxton had with words. Coupled with that dangerous bad boy vibe he wears like a seasoned leather jacket Braxton always had no problems sweeping ladies off their feet. It was not illogical for Dana to fall under that spell as well. For a moment, Christian felt something unfamiliar. He was not sure what to make of it and in his mind, he couldn't quite place visually how that feeling looked.

"Is there space in the fridge?" Dana was saying now. Christian snapped back to the present. He still had the tiramisu dish in his hand and the fridge door was held ajar with his other hand. Dana came over to where he was, ducking under his arm to look into the fridge. She reached inside, taking out a glass measuring jug with what looked like batter and a pack of bacon. "There," she said, gesturing to the vacated space. "Put it there."

Christian frowned.

He put the tiramisu inside the fridge and then turned towards Dana. She had already scurried over to the stove, now busy light up the stove and putting the pans on tops. The glass measuring jug was on the counter together with the pack of bacon. Dana was humming happily under her breath and was busy cracking three eggs into a small bowl now.

"What -" Christian stuttered out. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" Dana took a moment to turn towards him. "I'm cooking pancakes, bacon and eggs."

The pans were starting to sizzle and her attention turned back to them. She slid three slices of bacon into one pan and then slowly poured the eggs into another one. She took a spoon and started stirring the pancake batter in the measuring jug, careful to keep an eye on the third pan.

"But we are having lasagne," Christian insisted, unsure what was exactly happening.

"Yes, we are," Dana nodded, pouring a spoonful of batter into the third pan. "But if you don't like it, you can always have your favourite." She flipped the pancake over and then bin it. The first pancake out of a pan was always the one to throw and as if to answer his unspoken question, Dana continued, "I asked Braxton what's your favourite meal and he told me. He also told me that I need to cook three of everything and in separate pans."

Christian stood still, watching Dana as she cooked the pancakes. She was cooking the proper batch now, flipping the pancakes over once the batter bubbled on the surface. They did look good - all golden and brown. Probably better than the ones he cooked. He watched as the three slices of bacon sizzled merrily in the pan, the three eggs cooking in another and Dana deftly flipping pancake one, two and three onto a waiting plate.

Even after all these months, Justine would still ask him why.

Why Dana?

Why he would risk his life to save a girl he met for just a week?

Why did he send her the precious Pollock that hung above his bed in the trailer? The one painting that Justine thought he will never let go.

Why would Christian Wolff come back when he could stay safely away?

Justine never really understood why but Christian did. He could not put it into words that would make sense; but standing here in the kitchen, watching Dana cooking his favourite meal, Christian will gladly do it all over again. If risking his life meant that she was safe and happy and doing something so mundane as cooking pancakes in her kitchen dressed in her jeans and t-shirt, Christian was happy to do it for Dana a thousand times over.

The bacon and eggs were done. Dana turned off the stove, slowly arranged them onto the plate together with the pancakes. She lifted the plate and showed it to Christian.

"Do you think they are ok?" she asked.

The plate was offered for his inspection and Christian took a long look. The bacon was piled all wrong, the egg yolks were not centred and the egg whites were touching the pancakes. It was making him feel uncomfortable. It was also cooked by Dana. For him. Dana cooked this especially for him. Christian raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Yes," he replied. "They are perfect."

* * *

"So this new account is pretty major. I was surprised Mr. Steinman handed it over to me. I mean..I just started there. What? Like six months ago?"

"Six months and seventeen days," Christian informed her.

"Yes. That's right," Dana nodded. "Six months and seventeen days. Still a junior. I'm a little nervous about this new account. And I may have to go to New York."

They had sat down to dinner without Braxton. He had not made an appearance nor sent an update but Christian knew better than to call him. Braxton was in the middle of a job. His phone would be switched off or on silent.

At first, Christian had been apprehensive with just him and Dana having dinner. It has always been the three of them and in some ways, it was easier. Braxton talked more than enough for the two of them, which meant he can just relax and take a backseat. He always enjoyed listening to Braxton and Dana talk and he didn't mind not being part of the conversation. Now that it was just the two of them, Christian had been worried that he would have nothing to say. It would be awkward, he would say the wrong things, and he was worried he and Dana will eat the entire meal in silence.

It didn't faze Dana.

It didn't faze her then and it didn't faze her now.

Somehow Dana had this gift of talking and talking, slowly putting him at ease and before long, he found himself in the middle of a conversation with her. Dana was now telling him about her new job. She had moved to another accountancy firm after the Living Robotics debacle. It was a smaller firm but legit. Nothing major to hide. Their client list was sedate and nothing to worry about. Christian should know because he had made careful checks. Without Dana's knowledge, of course. She would be a little angry if she knew but the check was more for his peace of mind rather than anything else. Even though Dana wanted to study art at college, Christian thought she was pretty good at her job. She was fitting in well and already handling bigger accounts and what? What did Dana say just now?

"New York?" Christian piped up. "You are going to New York?"

Dana stopped chewing and smiled up at him.

"It's not certain yet. Mr. Steinman thinks it might be better for me to work out of their New York office for this account."

This was new information. And Christian was not comfortable with it. At all.

"For how long?"

"Not permanently," Dana answered, her brow furrowing slightly in thought. "Maybe two months? Three? I thought it would be a good opportunity, y'know. I mean I haven't been to New York. Well...maybe once. When I was in high school during Math Olympiad. Braxton said I should go."

This was the thing about socialising that Christian always struggled with. There is always so much information to process. What was being said, how it was being said what was not being said. Christian didn't quite know which one to focus on. He heard what Dana was saying. She was going to be in New York for two, maybe three months? Which one was it? Two or three? The imprecision bothered him. What exactly is Maths Olympiad? What did that have to do with New York or Dana being high school? And Braxton? Braxton knew Dana was going to New York and he didn't even tell him?

"Braxton said I would love New York," Dana continued, oblivious to Christian's predicament. "If fact, he said he could show me around. Braxton should be familiar with New York, right? Didn't he live there? He has the accent."

"It's fake."

"What?"

Christian carefully wiped the side of his mouth with his napkin and placed it back on his lap.

"Braxton's New York accent. It's fake," Christian repeated. "He thinks it made him sound tougher."

Dana was staring at him, her mouth opened with surprise. And then she laughed. She threw her head back and laughed. "Are you kidding?" she sputtered out, in between fits of giggles. When Christian shook his head, she nearly doubled up, holding on to her sides. It was probably one of his favourite sounds in the world, hearing Dana laugh and Christian couldn't help smiling back. Dana finally got her laughter under control and wiped the tears out of her eyes.

"So.. you think I should go?" she asked.

"Where?"

"To New York."

Christian stared down at his plate. He might look like he was ignoring Dana but his mind was racing ahead, weighing her question over and over again as he cut a piece of egg and pancake into equal pieces.

"You should," he murmured, not meeting her eyes. "You will love New York. There are very good art museums out there. Braxton can take you."

They both fell silent. Christian took the time to finish his pancakes. He made a mental note to ask Justine to check on Steinman, Goldberg and Bank, specifically their latest accounts in New York. Odds are there is nothing to it but Christian would be more comfortable knowing for sure. Justine could find out what is the situation with Dana's stay out there. If she digs deep enough, Christian was sure they could get the whole picture. Then, of course, he had to speak to Braxton.

"Chris?"

On hearing her voice, Christian looked up. Dana was not looking directly at him. Her eyes were on the roses standing in a vase between them.

"Why did you bring me roses?"

Christian mulled over her question. Personally, he always thought giving flowers was a little bizarre. Flowers should belong outdoors, not cut into stalks in vases. But Christian could appreciate how some people may find them beautiful and derived joy from having them indoors. There were also other reasons why people give flowers.

"They are your favourite," he answered quietly.

"They are," Dana replied, her voice sounding a little thoughtful. Her eyes were now on him. "But I don't think I told you roses are my favourite."

"You didn't."

He thought he had answered the question and was about to go back eating his dinner but Christian sensed that Dana was expecting a more elaborate answer. It was the way she tilted her head to one side, her eyes still fixed on him. She wanted an explanation. Christan was getting better at picking up that particular non-verbal cue.

Christian put down his knife and fork before answering.

"You always like having flowers on your table. You had sunflowers the first time I was here."

Dana's brows knitted together, probably recollecting the first time he had been in her apartment. It was to save her life and he had just double-tapped three mercenaries before killing the last one who was about to shoot her. Christian remembered every detail clearly.

"You like sunflowers but roses are your favourite," he intoned, not looking at Dana. "We were watching American Beauty last month and you mentioned how much you like them."

"You remembered?"

Christian nodded.

"You have a small postcard of a print of Henri Fantin-Latour's 'Roses' you used as a bookmark," he continued. "And…' He paused momentarily, pushing up his glasses and blinking behind them. "And sometimes your hair smells like roses."

Christian looked up. Did he get it wrong? He had been sure Dana liked roses.

She was smiling.

"It's rosehip oil," Dana replied. "I found it's great for my hair."

Two pink spots appeared on her cheeks and not for the first time, Christian thought how she looked like a woman in a Renoir painting. All delicate pale skin, beautiful eyes and pink cheeks. Dana glanced at the roses again before looking back at him.

"Chris -" she said. "I was wondering about New York." The pink tinge to her cheeks spread over her face now and Dana stopped what she was about to say. She seemed to kick herself and then continued. "What I meant to say is… when I'm in New York, can you visit? I thought it will be nice. We could spend a day The Met together, or MOMA. Or maybe we can visit the Guggenheim. Just the two of us, maybe."

Christian picked up his knife and fork. He could not quite describe the complex feelings that were bubbling up in his chest and stomach at the moment. But if he needed to point to one of the faces on the chart, he would choose happy. Yes, he felt very happy at the moment.

"You will need more than a day to see everything at the Met," he said.

"Okay."

"MOMA is closed for renovations but will re-open in October."

"I didn't know that."

"We can go to the Whitney instead," Christian remarked gravely. "Just the two of us. Museums bore Braxton anyway."

"Okay."

It was a simple response but Christian could hear the smile in Dana's voice. He could feel the corners of his mouth curving up in response.

Christian's gaze fell on the ceramic dish of lasagne on the table in between them. He had been hesitant to try it just now. Christian liked to touch his food. It helped him figure out the texture before he put them in his mouth. Pancakes, eggs and bacon were a safe bet. He knew what they felt and tasted like. The lasagne had smelled delicious. But lasagne on a whole always looked a little too wet, a little too irregular for his taste. But then again, this was no ordinary lasagne.

"Dana?" Christian spoke up.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think.." he softly stammered. "Do you think I can try some of the lasagne?"

* * *

They had settled in front of the tv after dinner.

He was not sure where exactly to sit. Usually Braxton called dibs on the armchair and he had to sit on the sofa with Dana on the other side. Christian was unsure whether he should take the armchair and gave Dana all the room on the sofa instead. He had stood aside, with his arms across his chest whilst Dana bounced in her usual spot on the sofa.

She had turned to look at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to sit? I'm starting the film." She patted the spot next to her. "Here. Sit here."

When he gingerly folded himself onto the spot and settled back onto the cushion, Dana grinned, taking a sip from her glass of wine. She pressed the button on the remote.

"I got that documentary about Basquait," she said. "Audience on rated it 77% on Rotten Tomatoes but critics rated it at 68."

"How many critics reviews?"

"28."

"Audience?"

"11,665."

Dana was grinning when she said that and they both knew the joke. The actor playing Basquait was actually very good and it was not until halfway through the film before Christian found himself in this very unusual dilemma. The wine she had with dinner and half of the second glass whilst watching the movie must have made her a little sleepy. Christian was at odds on what he should do now. Casting back to how he got he got into this predicament in the first place did not seem to help him decide.

But as always, when it comes to Dana, things were usually taken out of his hands.

Dana was already stirring and when she finally woke up and found where or rather who she had been resting against, Dana Cummings nearly jumped three feet clear in the air.

"Oh my god!' she exclaimed. "Did I fell asleep? Shit! Of course I did. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to - " She broke off, cursing under her breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't."

It was the truth. He didn't mind it at all. In fact, now that he thought about it, he quite liked having Dana that close to him.

"You don't?"

Christian shook his head, giving Dana a quick smile.

"Okay," she smiled back, tucking her hair behind her ear. She then glanced at the movie still playing on the tv.. "Did I miss much? Are you halfway through?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to finish it?" she asked. "I'll try to stay awake this time."

Christian turned his attention back to the movie, rewinding it back to the point where he left off. Dana had moved a few inches closer, her arm now flushed against him. It was a strange sensation to feel her soft skin against his but it was not uncomfortable. It was rather nice.

A few minutes into the movie, Dana spoke up.

"Chris?'

"Yes?"

"I had a nice time tonight."

Christian kept silent. He had a really nice time too.

"Don't get me wrong. I like having both you and Braxton over," she continued, stifling a yawn. "But I really enjoyed just being with you."

Dana did not manage to stay awake. She drifted to sleep soon, her warm body settling even further into his side. Her head was back on his shoulder. Christian turned his head slightly. The rosehip scent on her hair was heavenly. Her hair felt slightly ticklish against his face but Christian found he didn't mind it at all.

* * *

He had the key and all it took was a quiet turn of the doorknob before Braxton silently let himself into the apartment.

He knew he had missed dinner and perhaps the movie as well. He wouldn't have come up if he hadn't spotted Christian's ride still downstairs at Dana's apartment. Huh, his big brother was still here. The light was down low as usual in the apartment and except for the tv, he didn't hear anything else.

Braxton had perfected the art of being silent. It was important in his trade after all. But he nearly broke out in chuckles when he noticed what was in front of his eyes. Christian and Dana both fast asleep on the sofa, their heads pressed against each other. His grin widened when he saw the bunch of red roses on the table.

Braxton backed out slowly.

He was careful to shut the door as softly as possible before making his way to the lift and down to the lobby. It was not until he was out of the building that he answered his vibrating phone.

"Yep." Braxton walked to his car while he listened to the voice on the other line. "Yeah. All done. It was a quick clean job. I finished it early."

He stopped in his tracks.

"Where was I?" he said to the caller. "I just had dinner and a drink at the bar to celebrate my clean hit. Is that a problem for you? Well, good to know it's not. I'll call you tomorrow."

He ended the call, chuckling at how the evening turned out. It took his brother long enough to finally make a move. Cute girls like Dana don't hang around for long and his brother was sometimes just a little too good at keeping his feelings under wraps.. Braxton took a lollipop out of his pocket. He used to smoke but kicked that habit a long time ago, replacing that with either sucking on mints or a lollipop instead. He carefully peeled the wrapper and popped the sweet treat into his mouth. But not before he dumped the bunch of red roses he bought into the nearest trash can.


End file.
